


Don't Call Me That

by piinkmocha



Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: But theyre not really in this story, F/M, Female Frisk, Frisk Is 17, I couldn't just make frisk 18 that'd be too easy, Implied/Referenced Abuse, Implied/Referenced Drug Use, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, One Shot, Papyrus and Undyne are dorky best friends, Porn With Plot, Porn with Feelings, Post-Undertale Pacifist Route - "I want to stay with you.", Sans uses his magic for some fun times, This is my first fanfiction in a long ass time, heavy foreplay but sans doesnt really have a dick so they have to improvise, help me im in hell, i dont even know, im sorry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-30
Updated: 2016-06-30
Packaged: 2018-07-19 04:46:01
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,410
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7345462
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/piinkmocha/pseuds/piinkmocha
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Frisk feels like Sans actually gives a shit about her. She needs that.</p><p>She also hates when Sans calls her "kid."</p>
            </blockquote>





	Don't Call Me That

**Author's Note:**

> I was super torn between making this San's or Frisk's POV, eventually settled on Frisk's.  
> This story is basically feelsy-porn, but I'm not sure if I'll keep it mature or bump it to explicit.

Things were about to get violent again. She had to get out, she had to get away - but she had no chance of escaping right this moment. Her father was loudly lumbering through the house, calling out for her - she pushed herself deeper into her closet, trying her best not to make too much noise. Her father was an aggressive asshole, and she hated him - she hated him, she hated her mother, and she hated _being_ here.

 

Which was really saying something, because Frisk wasn't a hateful person. Far, far from it. It took so many years of psychological abuse for her to admit she was unhappy in this household. She was afraid. Even when she started staying with Toriel and Asgore on the weekends, she was afraid. Her 'determination' did her no good against her parents.

 

This had all started when they found out she was friends with monsters. Though not at war anymore, humans didn't necessarily _like_ monsters. Not all humans disliked them, of course, but _enough_ of them did - enough to make the monsters wary around humans. It was like they could sense the distrust. Frisk, though, spent almost all of her time with her monster friends. When her parents' pleading didn't keep her away from them, they turned verbally abusive, and, in time, physically abusive.

 

Loud banging on the closet door startled Frisk out of her thoughts, and panic fully set in - no matter how many times this had happened before, it was never any less terrifying or painful. Thankfully, her closet door was locked, so maybe she'd have just a little more time...

 

***

 

Stumbling through the snow, she made her way to her friends' house. She didn't even bother knocking - she swung the front door open and stepped right in, trying her best to hide the slight limp she walked with. She was wearing a turtleneck to cover the bruises on her neck, and there was smeared blood on her lip from what had been an attempt to wipe the evidence of her struggle away.

 

"Sans?" Her voice was soft, and it cracked as she called out his name. When she didn't get a response right away, she kicked off her shoes and shuffled further inside, looking around the small house for any sign of either skeleton brother. Her parents didn't know about Sans and Papyrus - she was safe here. She was safe at Toriel's, too, but they lived further away, and she needed help _now._

 

"Sans?!" She tried again, her voice much stronger this time.

 

"Kid?"

 

The reply was almost instantaneous this time, and she spotted the skeleton at the top of the stairs. He looked concerned, and for good reason - Frisk rarely came in without knocking, much less in this shape. He moved quickly over to her, eye-sockets wide with confusion. "Kid, you look... what's up?"

 

Frisk didn't even bother explaining. She hung her head and moved past him, flopping down on the couch (with a small squeal of pain) and pulling her legs slowly up to her chest. She was a small ball of pain and misery.

 

As Sans moved to join her, she flinched away, and when she did so, a pack of cigarettes she'd been concealing slid out of her pocket. Sans eyed the half-empty carton in disgust, then turned and gave her the same look. She glared in return.

 

"Those things will kill you, kid."

 

"So will everything else in the fucking world, maybe I want some control over my fate."

 

She hadn't meant to snap that way - that wasn't like her at all. Sans knew this, too - it showed. Because he sat next to her on the couch, keeping to himself, but throwing glances at her as often as he felt he could get away with. They sat in silence for a while before Sans asked, "what's the occasion of the visit, kid?"

 

She ignored the question, not making eye contact when she muttered in reply, "I hate when you call me that."

 

He shrugged.

 

She knew he was waiting for a response, but she didn't want to give it. Instead she asked, "where's Pap?"

 

"Papyrus is at work." Papyrus worked as a chef in a small café downtown. He was an awful cook. He only kept the job because Undyne intimidated the hell out of the boss. All of the food he made went to Monster Kid, who, bless his heart, had decided to visit daily to eat Papyrus's food, just to make sure the friendly skeleton didn't feel like he was doing a bad job. Monster Kid never complained out loud, because he liked Papyrus, but now and then, Frisk would hear him vomiting behind the restaurant from eating so much spaghetti.

 

Bless that kid.

 

"Kid."

San's voice snapped her back to where she was, and she saw he was looking at her with nothing but concern in his eyes. When she remained silent, he did something she wasn't ready for - his magic coiled around her, gently pulling her towards him. She struggled, but not that much. She wasn't sure she wanted to struggle. She trusted him - but she wasn't sure she could handle this right now.

 

"I-Is not wanting to talk about it such a bad thing? Can't we just sit and relax?" She'd meant to sound aggressive, but her voice came out as a choked plea. Sans narrowed his eyes. At this point, he had her close enough to reach over and place his hand atop hers. She tensed, but didn't move. Feeling it was alright, he laced his bony fingers through hers, and she felt her heartbeat slow down a little. She even gave his hand a small squeeze before letting out a soft sigh.

 

"Trust me, kid, I love when you just drop by to visit. But this isn't how you act when that's the case." His usual, playful tone wasn't there, and it made her slightly uncomfortable, if she was being honest. She wasn't used to him being this serious. When she remained silent, he added, "and those cigarettes, kid - what's going on?"

 

She stayed quiet again. This time, though, tears welled up in her eyes. She fought them back, but it was no use. She felt the warmth sliding down her cheek, and she felt so fucking worthless. So worthless and disposable, and-

 

And Sans was pulling her into a hug, and she couldn't wince, she couldn't let him know-

 

"Did they hurt you again?"

 

Sans knew. She knew he knew, but she'd told him not to worry about that kind of thing anymore, she'd said it would stop, that she'd never come to him all battered from their fights again. She'd said everything would be fine. But right now, it wasn't. She tried to respond, but sobs wracked her body, and she began to practically scream into his chest. The words weren't coherent, but Sans understood, somehow.

 

It was like that for a good while. Ten minutes passed before she managed to get herself together. When she did, she muttered to Sans, "I tried to get away, I tried to, he was there, I wasn't quiet enough, Sans, I wasn't..."

 

He cut her off by lifting her chin with one finger. His eyes held their usual warm glow now. "Hey, kid, it ain't your fault. If it wouldn't start an all out war against humanity, I'd kill the asshole myself. Both of them."

Sans wouldn't forget the day her mother bruised her entire body.

 

And Frisk - Frisk felt _loved_. Sans always made her feel that way. It was such a nice change. She needed it. She needed him. She _needed-_

And suddenly her lips were on him, his face, his mouth, it felt good, despite him not having lips. She'd never kissed a monster before. And to her relief, he kissed back, eye-sockets falling shut as an amused hum stirred from him. When she pulled away, he did, too.

 

"Kid."

Suddenly, his tone was different. A good different.

"I don't know if I can..."

 

She didn't let him finish; she kissed him again, very gently. Slowly but surely, he slid his tongue into her mouth, and she shuddered at the slimy feeling of it. His hands were wandering, and suddenly she worried he would-

Before she realized what she was doing, she lifted her arms to allow him to take off her shirt, and _fuck-_

 

Sans was silent. He eyed the bruises, but he also looked at the scars that littered her arms. She was so ashamed of those - a couple weeks old, she'd done it in a fit of misery and rage, and they were so _ugly,_ and now someone _knew_ that she was hurting her fucking _self._

And Sans - he pressed a gentle kiss to her collar, then began moving down to her stomach, he didn't say a thing about them - was that bad? She wasn't sure.

 

He sensed her discomfort, and next thing she knew, she was being pushed back on the sofa, ever so gently so as not to bother her injuries. Sans' eye went blue, and it temporarily frightened her. He murmured, "I should kill the bastard."

She couldn't help but smile - even though she was on the verge of tears due to sheer embarrassment.

He was silent for a moment before he added, "you're fuckin' gorgeous, kid. Those don't matter. Shit happens."

 

She felt her heart in her throat.

He kissed her jaw.

"Want to keep going, kid?"

 

She shifted slightly under him, and _fuck,_ why did that feel good? "Sure, but you can't call me that if we do. It's creepy."

 

He laughed at this, but didn't respond. Instead, he slid his tongue down her chest, stopping to suck on and nibble one of her nipples before continuing to her stomach. It was so warm and nice, she couldn't help but moan - she moaned so _quietly,_ but he loved it - at least it seemed that way, because next thing she knew, her jeans and panties were being slid down her legs, and then being tossed lazily onto the floor beside them.

 

More fucking scars - all over her thighs, she hated herself so _much_ \- but he began kissing her thighs anyway, so fucking gently, she wasn't sure how to feel about this whole thing. Sans had been a friend of hers for _years,_ and she'd always liked him, she'd always felt there was something there, but she never imagined this actually happening.

 

"So, uh, ki- um. Frisk," he started, "I don't really have a dick, Frisk. So I'll have to accompany you in some other way." He flicked his tongue out suggestively, and her entire face turned bright red. She nodded.

 

He began sucking on her clit- **_fuck,_** she didn't expect to like it that much. She let out a loud moan, curling her toes into the couch. A low chuckle from Sans. He slipped his tongue inside of her, slowly, _so fucking slowly,_ she arched her back and let out a loud whine.

 

And maybe, just maybe, he'd like it if she begged for him. Mustering up all of the courage she had, she begged, "Sans, please, I want you to make me cum, ple-"

That was all she could get out before he went to work with his tongue, sending any thoughts she had spiraling out of her mind. She brought her hands up to his head and slid them down to his shoulders, holding onto him as he tasted inside of her, her legs going up and hooking around the smaller figure's torso.

 

He pulled away, both eyes gleaming blue, muttering, "you're so fucking wet, Frisk. Fuck."

He slid a finger into her, which she was completely unready for but it felt so good anyway - he curled them and moved them in just the right way, it felt so -

and _shit,_ he just hit the _spot,_ shit, _fuck-_

 

They were being loud. Maybe too loud. Sans was hitting her just the right way, she couldn't take it anymore-

And suddenly he _stopped,_ why-

 

"Frisk."

His voice was thick with lust. It drove her crazy.

 

"Y-Yeah?"

 

"Get on top of me, kid, and fucking _grind,_ I'll use my magic to help you get there, but I want you to cum on _me."_

That name again, she could kill him- 

Though she could hardly process his request, she moved anyway, crawling on top of the skeleton. She was practically soaked down there.

 

Magic traced down her back, moving right along with Sans' finger, that felt _good-_

She rocked her hips against his pelvis and moaned _right_ in his fucking ear.

He moaned, too - could monsters get off, in their own weird way?

She didn't have time to think about it.

 

She whined and rubbed against him - it felt so good, and he was making noises, too, all while trying to keep focused on making his magic get her there - and hell, she did.

 

She screamed when her orgasm came, feeling it dripping down her thighs and all over Sans. Sans looked like he was in a state of absolute ecstasy.

 

"Frisk."

 

That was all he said. She understood.

 

***

 

"You're saving my life," she breathed as she hauled her last bag into the skeleton brothers' house. Papyrus gleamed from where he stood in the kitchen. Sans was silent in the living room - that nosy bastard was going through all of her bags, but whatever.

 

"IT'S NO BIG DEAL, HUMAN! I HOPE YOU ENJOY IT HERE! I CAN MAKE YOU PASTA EVERY NIGHT NOW!"

Frisk wasn't sure she was looking forward to that.

"I can't wait, Pap! I'm sure Sans loves your cooking, too?"

"HE EATS IT SO FAST. HE MUST."

 

Sans made no comment on this remark, but Frisk knew that he most definitely was not eating the pasta.

He was using his magic to dig through another one of her suitcases. She threw him a disapproving glare, which he smiled to in response. He'd agreed to let her move in, after all - he had some smug attitude that she wouldn't be able to get rid of for a while, but whatever.

She could've sworn she loved him.

Even as a pair of her panties landed on her head.

Man, Toriel was going to love hearing about this.

 

"Hey, kid?"

She glanced over at him. Before he could ask his question, she spoke up.

 

"Do you call all of your girlfriends 'kid?'

 

"Dunno. You're my first one."

 

"Sans."

 

"What?"

 

"Don't call me that."

**Author's Note:**

> Rushed ending is rushed because I'm tired as hell
> 
> Also: I'm thinking about writing a multi-chapter thing. Sans/Frisk, of course. And I want Muffet to be a prostitute.
> 
> I don't really know if that idea will go anywhere considering all I've got right now is prostitute Muffet, but we'll see.


End file.
